Cross My Fingers
by Posideon
Summary: Everyone knows Cammie Morgan is the daughter of the MIA legend. And everyone knows that Zach is the son of a brutal terrorist. But... What if it was reversed? What if their roles were switched with each other? Follow Zach and Cammie's adventure as they meet new friends, face new challenges, and solve new mysteries.
1. Blood is Thicker Than Water

**EDIT: this is adjust a small edit on the first chapter- different wording here, italics there, add a sentence right here, nothing very important for those of you who have already read this. **

* * *

**Blood Runs Thicker Than Water: **  
**The family bond is closer than anything else.**

"Just be yourself," Bex said, as if it were that easy. Which it wasn't. At all.

Especially not when you're fifteen and you have no idea what your best friend will look like next time you see her, or what your name will have to be tomorrow. Not when your mother is a terrorist. Not when your nickname is the Chameleon.

Not when you're a spy.

Of course, if you're reading this, it's because you have at least a level four clearance and know all about the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women. You know that despite their gorgeous mansion and manicured grounds, they aren't snobs; they're spies. But on that cold January day, my best friend seemed to forget that when you've spent your whole life learning how to memorize everything about your new identity in under fifteen seconds, how to completely alter your appearance with only a handful of blackberries and a pair of nail clippers, being yourself is hard- spies in training are much better at being something we're not.

(And we've got fake IDs to prove it.)

My best friend slipped her arm around my shoulders and whispered, "You got this, Cam," and led me through the crowds of shoppers that filled Pentagon City Mall. "You're nothing like her." She murmured comfortingly.

I only nodded. Ever since I was four years old and inadvertently cracked a Sapphire Series NSA code that my mother had laying around our home, however, I had been a lot like her, but I kept my thoughts to myself as Bex spoke to the cashier in the deserted Starbucks.

"I'd like a White Chocolate Mocha, and my friend would have a hot chocolate- just a little whipped cream, please."

I felt nothing like my mother, though, as the cashier asked me, "Would you like chocolate sauce?" She looked me in the eyes. "We recently ordered a new brand."

"No thanks, I'm allergic," I replied.

The cashier smiled at me and pointed at a table in the back. "Sit there and we'll bring you your orders in a bit." As we turned around, the cashier whispered to me, "Good luck."

And I totally knew I was going to need it.

Bex and I walked towards the table the cashier had mentioned and sat down. "Are you ready?"

I answered in the way we spies are best at- I lied. "Sure. Are you?" Bex was being interrogated right after it was my turn- to gain more information on my background, my morals, and my purpose.

Bex nodded slowly. "I think we..." She trailed off as she placed her palms on the smooth surface of the table, and I followed her lead. We both felt it grow warm beneath our skin.

"You're going to be fine," Bex insisted.

I only nodded my head.

How was I going to be fine? The CIA were going to interrogate me in a secret underground facility under the local Starburst about whether or not I had intentions of destroying them. I'd been wanting to train at the Gallagher Academy ever since I turned on my mom, and here was my chance. If they believed that I was truly against the Circle, I'd be accepted- under constant surveillance, but accepted. If not... I'd prefer not to think about that.

Bex had a lot of faith in me, if she thought that I could convince them that I wanted nothing to do with the Circle. I didn't think I could.

I took a deep breath.

And then the ground beneath us started to shake.

* * *

Everything around us rose as the floor sank. Bright lights flashed white, burning my eyes.

"Body scan," Bex and I both whispered at the same time.

The small elevator we were now in continued its descent farther and farther beneath the little shop.

Time seemed to stand still, but I knew to count the seconds. One minute gone by. Two. Three minutes...

We then descended through a thin lazer beam that read our retinal images. Moments later, a bright orange light pulsed. Then darkness surrounded us like a thick blanket.  
A bright flash of light, then the sound of doors opening, and I could see my surroundings.

White walls, black and grey checkered marble flooring. Twenty three ceiling lights and twice as many ceiling tiles. A small metal table with a coffee brewer with the Starbucks logo on the bottom right corner stood in the edge of the big picture. Two chairs stood next to the table, with a third only an inch away from the elevator entrance. The whole room seemed to give off a combination of _I know something you don't_ and _there are no secrets here._

A man was already seated at the chair nearest to the coffee maker, a cup of dark coffee in his hands. Bex and I stepped out of the elevator, and it slammed shut behind us.

The man stood as we took a step forwards. He extended his free hand out to me and I shook it firmly. "Hello, ladies! My name is Dr. Steve."

'Dr. Steve' seemed a little to happy for the emotion in the current situation, but I introduced us anyways.

I pointed to myself. "Cammie Morgan." _But you already knew that. _I pointed to the girl next to me. "Bex Baxter."_ But you already knew that. _

Dr. Steve smiled at me. "Of course, of course! Take a seat," he gestured to the seat next to his, then hurried to introduce himself and shake hands with Bex. He seemed too... Fake, I decided. To happy to be here.

Must be something in his coffee.

We both sat down, him scooting his chair so that it faced mine. He pointed at the little machine on the table. "Would you like some?" Bex and I both nodded our heads. Though our orders were just for code, I was still parched (and half hoping we would still get our drinks.) As he handed me my cup, and then moved across the room to give Bex hers, I reguarded my drink suspiciously.

It _looked_ like coffee. It _smelled_ like coffee. As I drank it, though, I knew I was the only one in the room who had not received coffee.

_There is nothing to fear if I have nothing to hide_, I told myself. I drew comfort from the warmth the cup radiated in the cold room, took a deep breath, and sat up straighter.

* * *

"My name is Cammie."

"No, what's your full name?" Dr. Steve asked me, as if I hadn't introduced myself to him five minutes ago.

"Cameron Ann Morgan."

"You are the only daughter of Catherine Morgan, are you not?" Dr. Steve made it sound more like a statement than a question, and I found myself admiring the bluntness in him that few people had these days.

"Yes."

"Has she has been part of the Circle of Cavan for twenty-one years?" I felt the need to tell the truth, to spill out all of my secrets, and immediately sensed that the substance I had taken was a truth serum.

"Yes."

"Have you had ny contact with any agents from the Circle of Cavan?"

"Barely."

"Have the Subjects shown any interest in recruiting you?"

"Yes," I said. No point in thinking like that hasn't happened- I want to remember how valuable of a pawn I am to the Circle as mom's daughter. The serum would force it out of me anyways, and I've seen the outcome of not obeying it. It does terrible things to your mind.

Dr. Steve to a moment more to look into my eyes, as if he could see every single secret I've ever had. "Have you shown any interest in being recruited for the Circle of Cavan's purpose?"

Bex had told me what to do when they asked this- stay calm. Chin up. Remain proud. Don't let them get to you.

"No." I said through gritted teeth.

Another pause. "Do you have any intention of harming an agent of the CIA to benefit the Circle of Cavan's purpose?"

_Jeez, what more do you want from me? I'm not going to grow up to be the Circle's stupid pet!_

"No."

Dr. Steve smiled at me, as if he knew of my annoyance. "Strong will you have, Cammie. One last question and then we're done here." He took a small breath. "If you were to make a choice, would you save your best friend or Catherine Morgan?"

I took a deep breath. What's the saying, blood runs thicker than water? Is it always like that, no matter what? Does family always have to come first?

"Ms. Morgan, would you sacrifice your mother for your best friend?"

I mentally kicked myself. Bex is my only family. She may have given birth to me, but Catherine Morgan is in _no way_ my mother. I raised my chin a little, sensing Bex smile as she knew my answer. I could feel our bond as friends growing stronger; Bex meant everything to me and I'd have to make sure she knew that.

"Yes."

* * *

**Yes! First chapter done! **

**A big thank you to my awesome beta, maryclumsykatherine, for correcting mistakes and helping me fix the first chapter. The coffee scene and idea was dedicated to you, Mary, though it so should have been hot chocolate! :)**

**I'm going to update every other Friday; that way, I'll have enough time to write it, send it and get it back from Mary, and there'll be a guaranteed update then.**

**Sidenote: the title is an idiom that always has to do with the chapter's context. The next chapter title will be 'All Greek to Me,' and everything will be Zach's point of view from now on. **


	2. All Greek to Me

**All Greek to Me:**  
**Meaningless and incomprehensible like the Greek language would be to someone who does not understand, read, or speak it. **

_FOUR YEARS LATER_

I woke to the sound of shouting. Terribly loud shouting.

I groaned and sat up in my bed.

"Grant, what in the world are you doing?" I asked, crossing the room in three strides and pulling his foot out of the vat of Sodium Polyacrylate that was worth a big portion of our final grade last semester. We had never got around to getting rid of it, opting instead it place it next to the dorm door. I turned away from him and started towards our small bathroom to brush my teeth.

_First day back from break and he's already messing something up_, I thought exasperatedly as Grant apologized, his voice muffled by the closed door of the bathroom.

"So, do anything interesting over break?" My other roommate, Jonas, asked me as I reentered the room.

"Not really."

"Okay," he replied, reaching for the door.

Grant, Jonas and I may have been roommates, but our friendship doesn't get past that. We were all small talk and group projects, lunch buddies and sparring partners. That's how life was here though.

You can't really trust anyone.

Breakfast was as normal as breakfasts at Blackthorne get. Nobody in their right mind would want this food, but it actually had nutritional value and was easy to get used to. Still, I missed my grandmother's fudge, which I had eaten in generous portions over break. (Who wouldn't, though?)

Our headmaster, Dr. Steve, was as lively as they get. His usual welcome back speech was filled with unnecessary vigor and annoying cheerfulness, and a use of the word 'excellent' way too much. Still, it was a comforting thought that some things never change.

Since it was the morning after winter break, all of our classes were review sessions. Because of my extended memory (every spy has no better weapon than their mind, their memory being the most important) I knew every single answer to every single question and was ready to fall asleep. Classes after lunch were the same.

The rest of the week was long and boring. New material was mastered and stored in my mental library for future reference in a matter of minutes. Hard, tasteless food was served and eaten. The barrier between me and my roommates remained, no matter how many times they attempted to be friendly. I wanted no friends because I'd have to leave them in the end, and I don't think I could bear them being used against me in the future. It was better that way, no matter how lonely I was.

The only interesting thing, by the end of the week, was Friday evening.

I've wrote this whole encounter and everything that's happened after it as a way of proving a few unbelivable things. One: I'm not crazy. This really did happen. Everything written in here is entirely one hundred percent true, and I have a witness. Two: I wanted to savor the beacon of light in my bleak life.

And I'll probably end up burning this after I've memorized it. Oh well.

My name? Zach Goode.

My mom is a spy. I never see her because I'm locked up in this place, and she's always on missions. Always. Every day of the entire school year, my mother, Rachel Goode, claims to be on a mission. My dad, Matthew Goode, is MIA. I don't know what happened to him, and I probably never will. My mom has a sister, but I haven't seen her since my dad dissapeared. I have caring grandparents who have no clue what my mom does and what my dad did, and what I'm training to do. All of my other relatives are also clueless.

Things only started to get interesting for me a week back into school, when I overheard my mom and Dr. Steve talking in his office.

Two things need to be addressed at this point. One: you don't need to know why I was in an air vent connecting to my headmaster's office. Two: _my mom is not supposed to be here._

By this point, I was confused. And Zach is never confused.

"Are you sure nobody has guessed?" My mom asked in a low voice.

Now there's something to grab my attention, if they didn't already have it.

_Guess what?_ I thought.

"About Gallagher?" Dr. Steve asked cheerfully. "Of course not. Just like Gallagher hasn't guessed about us yet, the boys have been given no reason to guess about Gallagher."

_Until now_.

"No reason to suspect anything?"

"No."

"Because I want things to stay as normal for as long as possible for both of us."

"Of course, Rachel," Dr. Steve replied, a little too enthusiastic for the aura my mother was sending off to him.

"Good. Let's hope this works," my mom said, leaning across the desk. She lowered her voice, and I had to lean forward and hold my breath to hear it. "The address is 1234 Hidden Lane, Roseville, Virginia. You understand why I can't write this down."

"We wouldn't want one of my boys to find it, would we?" Dr. Steve said. My mom leaned back in her seat, nodding her head. As she did, I swear she looked right at me. Yeah- through the vent cover and everything. _My mom is an awesome spy. _

And I know a challenge when I see one.

"No, we wouldn't. Since I couldn't tell you over the phone, be there at twelve."

"Of course, Rachel, of course. We won't be late."

"Thank you." My mom stood up and headed towards the door.

_Come on, mom, nothing more to go on?_

_Well, I can deal with that just fine._

* * *

I quietly backed out of the vent and headed towards my room. As I was jogging, I reviewed what I had learned.

_Gallagher. 1234 Hidden Lane- Roseville, Virginia. Blackthorne boys are not supposed to know about this. This matter was important enough for my mom to take a break from her missions and come tell Steve in person._

I knew that in order to figure out this puzzle, I would need help. I hated admitting it. However, I had been thinking through my options, and I had run into a dead end. My mom made it clear that there was no written work for this task. Nothing to snoop for in Dr. Steve's office, not much else to go on.

I needed Grant and Jonas.

I knew them. I may not have made an effort to become friends with them, but I still knew them. Another point of view on this would certainly be helpful, and they had ingenious ideas. They were smart and they had skills. Plus, Dr. Steve said we, implying Blackthorne, so I could assume no harm would come from employing my roommates' help, because we would know about it eventually.

But I wanted to know _now_, not _eventually_.

I really had no idea what or who Gallagher was, or what the address meant. I didn't know the connection my mom had to Gallagher or how she obtained that connection. Grant and Jonas would really be my best bet right now.

Using the clues my mom deliberately gave me, it was obvious she thought I could do this. With a little help, I had no doubt I could.

* * *

**Not as long as I'd have liked, but I'll work on that. **

**If anything was confusing, it'll be cleared up next chapter. If not, PM me if you still don't get it, and I'll explain. **

**Thank you so much for all of your reviews! I'm glad you're all so animated about the whole theme and it of this story, it made me feel appreciated :D I was overwhelmed by the about of author favorites, follows, story favorites, and story follows! Thank you!**

**Next update on the 10th of May; bear with me, I know it's a long wait, but that way you guys get updates on time :) and I get more time to countlessly review my chapters to make them the best for you guys. And that chapter will be longer. **

**Title of chapter three: Hit the Nail Right on the Head. The definition of that will definitely give you an idea of the next chapter.**

**Also: read marykatherineclumsy's stories- they're REALLY good! I definitely recommend them. And check out Moonlight Blizzard's _Escaping Reality_, a story I am beta'ing and is worth your time. Definitely read those. **

**See you in two Fridays!**


	3. Hit the Nail Right on the Head

**Hit the Nail Right on the Head:**  
**To be exactly correct about a description or to**  
**come to the right conclusion.**

"Explain this again?"

I sighed. "Grant, for the third time, I was in the vent, and I overheard my mom and Dr. Steve. They were talking about-"

Grant shook his head. "No, I mean what are we doing? Why do you need our help?"  
Jonas nodded in agreement.

"We're trying to find out what the heck Gallagher is," I replied, "and I need your help because you guys know I'm not the best at hacking the databases. And I think a fresh point of view would be helpful on this particular challenge."

"Challenge? What are you talking about?" Jonas asked me.

I sat down hard on my bed. "Before... all this, my mom used to train me. She would give me small challenges in subtle ways, and we never really stopped. By the way she looked at me, I could tell she was challenging me. Are you guys in or not?"

Jonas and Grant looked at each other, seeming to debate the pros and cons of the situation. By the conversation held by their eyes, I could tell that they were in.

"Sure. First order of business, Captain?" I threw my pillow at Grant.

"Don't call me Captain and I'll tell you," I replied evenly, watching as he fell on his back on his bed, propelled by the hard throw behind the pillow. He threw it back to me and handed Jonas his laptop.

I inwardly grinned. Maybe this is exactly what we needed to jump-start a friendship. At least we seemed to be behaving like normal teenage friends. Except for that little fact that we're not all that normal.

"It was Gallagher, right?" Jonas questioned me. "In Virginia. I'll check in the CIA's database first." Without letting me answer, he hacked into the database and starting searching through the files. (It took him only fifteen minutes to get past the firewalls, by the way- an impressive achievement.)

Without saying anything, he highlighted a passage, copied and pasted it to Microsoft, and then handed me the computer to read.

_Gillian Gallagher is an exceptional operative. Countless legends surround her history, and many spies look up to her. She was one of our first female spies._

It said more information about Gillian Gallagher, including her background and family history, but nothing very helpful. If it was right here in the database, why was it so secretive that my mom had to tell Dr. Steve about it in person? Also, she spoke about Gallagher as if she was more than one person, which made no sense.

"Try looking up the address," Grant suggested.

Jonas complied and resumed typing. "Got it," he said, whirling the computer so it faced Grant and I.

_1234 Hidden Lane is currently home to the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women in Roseville, Virginia. _

"This might be something," I said. "What else does it say?"

"Just that it's a boarding school for relatively wealthy girls," Jonas replied. "Not much else."

"You sure?" Grant asked. "Try searching the Gallagher Academy."

Jonas shook his head. "Still nothing. Only a couple of sentences that are unimportant, but..."

I finished his sentance, catching on. I grinned. "If they didn't bother to write down more information in the database, then there's something secret about it."

Grant added, finally getting it, "Because only the truly secret secrets don't exist in the database."

Jonas nodded. "Exactly."

Grant frowned. "So then if there's nothing else in here, we can assume the other agencies won't know much more- this is in the U.S, after all, and the CIA is the United States' principal agency. Which means that other databases won't be useful. So looking in their databases won't be much help."

"So then how-"

I was interrupted by a door slamming shut in the room next to ours.

We all groaned in unison. "Hurry! Inspections!" We rushed to clean our room and hide any items that weren't allowed here, keeping the current mystery fresh in our minds.

* * *

Inspections took fifteen minutes, and then we had to get to classes. (Yes, Saturday, classes, feel bad for us.) It was an entire day before we could safely talk about Gallagher again.

"So I've been thinking," I started, once we had removed Jonas's laptop from his hiding spot in the wall (no electronics allowed.) "This is a boarding school for rich, snobby girls, right?"

"Right..."

"And didn't it say, 'Due to an abundance of applications, the Gallagher Academy is now accepting students by invitation only' on the file of the Academy?"

"What are you getting at?" Jonas asked.

"So, in order to have an 'abundance of applications,' you need applicants. So you could guess that the applicants would be the public- but they would need to know about the Gallagher Academy in order to apply."

Something triggered in Jonas's eyes, like he was finally getting at my point, but Grant was still in confusion. "I still don't get it."

"Maybe it's not so top secret after all, and it's common knowledge to most people," I explained, on a roll. "Think about it. Snobby, rich girls? Nobody would want to get near them, or get to know them. Nobody would want to look into the school's history, the teachers that work there, or the girls that learn there. It's the perfect cover."

_But the perfect cover for what?_

"Common knowledge of civilians? For two geniuses, you need to be more open to unlikely sources." Grant grabbed the computer and typed something on it.

"Google?" Jonas and I wondered aloud.

"Smart, Grant." I chuckled. "It might not be on here though."

Grant snorted. "Google has everything, guys. Try it."

I reached for the keyboard and typed in _THE GALLAGHER ACADEMY. _

Two results came up.

The first was a Facebook post ('Gallagher Snobs walking around town like they own the place again. So annoying.') We looked at the second one.

"Well done, Grant!" Jonas congratulated him Grant grinned proudly.

"Told you!"

I went ahead and clicked the second link- the one labeled _THE GALLAGHER ACADEMY OFFICIAL WEBSITE._

Jonas's computer to a while to load the page, but when it did finish loading, we were rewarded the answer to our riddle.

The address on the bottom of the page matched the one my mom repeated in Dr. Steve's office. And I now thought I knew why my mom said that she wanted things to be normal for as long as possible- if what I was thinking was right, normal was about to take on a whole new meaning.

We glanced over at the rest of the website, memorizing it on the first go. I saw the subjects listed for what they really were, not just 'science' and 'social studies' and 'language arts'- much more covert things to be studying for high schoolers.

When I saw the names of the teachers that were employed there, it was hard to believe I was wrong.

"What is this place? Because its definitely not just a regular boarding school. I know that for sure."

I glanced at Grant. "You've got that right."

"Look at their teachers! These names are easily recognized- Fibs? Buckingham? It's no coincidence they're all retired there." Jonas frowned. "And look! It says that the founder is Gillian Gallagher!"

I grinned at them, finally seeing the name of the headmistress. "I think I know what this place is."

My mom always said that she had a mission almost every day of the school year. Who's to say she was lying?

"What?"

"A school."

A normal teenage boy reaction might have been a '_No, really?' _but I knew that they'd get my drift.

"For assassins?"

"No. There's a reason why this school has only boys." Jonas replied. _He always catches on before Grant_, I thought.

I nodded at Jonas. "You got it."

"Then what-" Grant left his sentence hanging in midair, finally understanding.

"It's a school for spies. And my guess is that we're about to have a run in with them very, very soon."

* * *

**Wait for it... Wait for it...**

**Dun dun DUNNNNNN! Yes, Zach- you'll be meeting the Gallagher Girls (or should I say your Gallagher Girl?) in a little bit.**

**I hope that this cleared up any confusion from the last chapter, about anything, really. Next chapter will be what you guys have been looking forward too- but I'm not telling. You've probably got it figured all out anyways. **

**Next chapter title: Ace up Your Sleeve.**

**Again, a huge thanks to marykatherineclumsy! I can't thank you enough!**

**By the way, a quick question- have any of you read the Sisters Grimm series? It was amazing! If you haven't, I suggest you do, because that series could seriously rival that Hunger Games (I even thought it was better) and was one of the most amazing things to ever be processed by my brain. Anyways, if you have, I was thinking of writing a two-shot about a scene or two that could have immediately followed the two epilogues. Would you guys be interested in that? If so, please tell me :)**


	4. Ace Up Your Sleeve

**Ace up Your Sleeve:**  
**A surprise or secret advantage, especially something tricky**  
**that is kept hidden until needed.**

Well, it turns out that 'very, very soon' was an inaccurate description of the time we'd have to double guess our conclusions, wonder if my mom and Dr. Steve were just playing a well thought out prank, and figure out that there was nothing -anywhere- about Blackthorne coming into contact with Gallagher. Nothing at all except my memory, which is the thing I've learned to count on the most in my life.

And it turns out that 'very, very soon' was an accurate description of the time we'd have to wait until all that double guessing, snooping, and hacking would prove to be true.

And it turns out that 'very, very soon' was only two more weeks. Yeah, only two weeks, but two weeks is 336 hours, 20,160 minutes, and way too many seconds. And we're not very patient.

But when 'very, very soon' faced us right in our... Well, right in our faces, the three of us were still caught by surprise.

"Boys, we'll be leaving for a field trip tomorrow morning, and I want you to pack everything but the clothes you own. Those will be provided. We'll be gone for an entire semester- no, boys, you will still continue your training." Dr. Steve's announcement to the entire student body that morning at breakfast was a surprise to everyone, including Grant, Jonas and I.

A couple of whispers broke out through the giant 'dining' room, though they died just as quickly when Dr. Steve started talking again.

"Of course, you must realize that only a select few students, those at the top of their classes, will be selected from each grade to join me at our destination." Dr. Steve paused a second, to let that sink in, before he continued on with a list of participants.

I wasn't really paying attention to the list- I only processed my name, Jonas's name, and Grant's name, before I tuned his voice out entirely- and my mind went into overdrive. _We must be going to that 'meeting' my mom scheduled with Dr. Steve. Or it could be that we're actually going to meet and work with the-_

My thought was interrupted as Dr. Steve stopped reciting his list and effectively drew back my attention to him.

"Excellent, excellent! Boys, I'll explain this trip on the way there in our hellicopter. This is a little too far away to take the van," he added. "Go pack and meet me here in fifteen minutes."

The crowd dispersed, and everyone headed towards his next class while the boys chosen for the trip walked up to their room. Jonas, Grant, and I shared an 'I think I know what the heck is going on but I'm not sure' look but stayed silent until they reached their room.

The second after their door closed, Grant started talking. "This must be about Gallagher, right?"

I nodded. "It's a safe assumption."

Jonas shook his head as he walked over to our closet. "It's not a guess. I've got a gut feeling that this is about Gallagher." He pulled out three relatively small backpacks and threw them to Grant and I. We caught them and started stuffing in the necessities, leaving out our uniforms.

Ten minutes later, the entire group of boys chosen to go were waiting on the helicopter pad. Nobody was talking, only sharing looks with each other awkwardly then looking away.

"Hello boys! Are you ready to go?" Dr. Steve appeared from the school building and walked over to them. As he reached the group, he pulled out of his pocket twenty or so blindfolds.

"Sorry, how to get there is a secret," he said, and without waiting for an answer, blindfolded the nearest boy. He led the boy up to the helicopter and guided him to the first seat. Dr. Steve turned around. "Who's next?"

After everyone had been blindfolded, Dr. Steve started the helicopter and took off. He turned on the autopilot and then made his way from the pilot's area to where the boys were sitting.

"Who wants to know where we're going?" Dr. Steve asked. Without waiting for an answer, he said, almost daring us, "take a guess."

I couldn't see anything, but I felt Dr. Steve looking at me.

I stayed silent, as did Jonas and Grant.

"Nobody thinks they know?"

Silence. Then Grant spoke up. "We must be going on some sort of mission, sir."

Dr. Steve said, "Excellent! Do you think you know where we're going?" I felt Grant shrug beside me and mutter a no. I whispered sarcastically, "The Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women."

Unfortunately, though I hadn't meant for him to, Dr. Steve heard me.

"What was that, Zach?" I could hear the hint of hurridly masked disbelief in his voice as he demanded the answer from me.

I shrugged. There was no way he would have reacted like that if I had been wrong, so I repeated what I said. "The Gallagher Academy."

Dr. Steve was silent for a moment. Then he laughed. _What? _"Excellent! Good job, Zach! But don't tell me how you knew; I don't think I'd like to find out." He raised his voice to address the rest of the boys. "I'll explain from the beginning. Today we are heading over to Washington D.C. to meet a class from the Gallagher Academy - but there's a catch. They don't know about us, what we do, or that we even exist." Dr Steve paused (dramatically) for a moment. "And they're a school for spies." The others sat in a stunned sort of silence for a minute, taking in all of this information.

"So what are we supposed to be doing?" Grant asked.

"You boys will be tailing the sophomore class. They will have a destination, and they will have to reach that destination by five. Your jobs are to follow them to wherever that is without being caught. All they know is that they have to get to their endpoint tail-free. What they don't know is who is tailing them- and I can tell you, they won't be expecting teenage boys."

"Are we staying at the Gallagher Academy for the rest of their semester?" A boy in the back asked.

"Yes," Dr. Steve said, "and under no circumstances do I want you to leak that you're assassins. For the rest of the year, you group of boys are spies. Nothing more, nothing less. You learn normal spy material and no history on Blackthorne or what it is is allowed to be shared. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, when we reach there, I'm going to give you one minute to memorize what they look like. Then it's go time."

Roughly an hour later, Dr. Steve pulled off my blindfold. I stood up and blinked from the sunlight. I barely managed a glimpse outside the windows before we landed, and my attention was brought to Dr. Steve, who was talking to us as he was taking the blindfolds off the rest of the boys.

Dr. Steve was telling us how good this would be and we needed to make him proud, but as soon as every boy was able to see, he stopped his 'pep-talk' and took out a bulky manila folder. "Inside here is a picture of whomever you are tailing. Pick out the first one from the pile- they were especially assigned to you, so you will be evenly matched. They are in order. Mess up the order and it will delay you and the girls wil get a headstart. Once you have your subject, pass the folder to your right."

As Dr. Steve handed the folder to the boy nearest to him, five or so seats away from me, I looked out past the windows of the helicopter, but a wall surrounding the helicopter pad blocked my view of anything. I would get to see soon enough, though, so I didn't pester myself about it.

Soon the file folder reached me. I flipped it open quickly and took the picture on the top, not even glancing down at it. I passed the folder down to my right, to Grant, before looking down at my subject.

The picture was blurry, but I was able to make out the features of the girl circled in red marker, on the left of the picture.

She wasn't pretty; not by a long shot. Compared to the beautiful dark-skinned girl she was talking to, she didn't really stand out. But she wasn't ugly, either. She was just... avarage.

Looking around, I could see that all the other girls were ridiculously dressed in clothes that were a little too fancy for a mission, and that only two or three other girls besides mine were dressed like normal teenagers. I looked down at my own picture and studied it.

Yeah, she may not have been overly pretty, but... There was a certain grace held in her posture, and a hidden beauty in her dishwater blonde hair. I had to look hard, but there was something in her eyes- something that anyone normal would have missed, but I interpreted it clearly- something like experience. Like she knew what she was doing, and she has been doing it for a while, and she's... Determined? Determined to do what?

_I'll just have to find out, then._

I looked closer to see how she adapted to her setting. A crowd in a mall. I looked down in the bottom left corner at the date printed there to see that this was taken today, and I couldn't help but feel like the Gallagher Girls were already wherever we were soon headed- ready for their challenge.

I concentrated back on the picture. Only twenty more seconds to study it.

Her background. How she adapts to it... Man, I'm in trouble.

I quickly glance over the photograph as a whole, ignoring the deep red circle on the left half. Had it not been there, I'm sure I would have _never_ found this girl.

She blended perfectly in with the environment. She looked exactly like any other civilian, and certainly not a threat. But I definitely knew better than that. This girl was an experienced pavement artist, and she knew it. She was very good at it. She she was a natural.

If this girl doesn't want to be seen, I have no doubt she won't be seen.

"Time's up!" Dr. Steve said enthusiastically. "Hand back the pictures so we can get going!"

I reluctantly cast one more glance at the girl before handing the picture back.

Oh, it's on.

* * *

I turned around again as my subject and her friend from the picture turned around suddenly and walked the other way, completely discarding the museum they seemed to be about to walk into. I stopped and turned to Grant, who was tailing my subject's friend, and said to him, "You know, I'm hungry. Can we go to the museum after we eat?" And he only grinned and nodded, so we changed course- conveniently towards both the restaurants and the girls.

I could see the two girls talking from my peripheral vision. My subject was saying something worriedly, which I could only assume was 'Why can't I locate my hot tail?' (But then I realized that probably wasn't right because she didn't know it was _me_ tailing her), and her friend answered her, throwing her arms wide apart and making my subject laugh. As Grant and I stopped to look at them from the reflection of a store, we saw the friend throw one of her arms around my subject, the other subtly pointing at... us. As we kept staring, unsure what to do in a moment where your subject is staring right at you, I couldnt help but read my subject's lips: "They're not puppies."

I almost laughed aloud._ Of course, they think we're civilians. How fortunate._ My subject grabbed her friend's hand from her shoulder and dragged her away. Grant and I shared a look.

They talked a bit more, and I could notice my subject's mood dampen a little bit as the conversation carried on, but then their smiles froze as they saw something, and they grew serious.

After that, it grew _infinitely harder_ to tail them. Something seemed to give them a jump-start on the idea that they should actually loose a tail, and soon, and then... Well, lets just say that it was luck that we managed to keep sight of them.

They seemed to give it their all without showing it- ducking in and out of museums, slipping in and out of crowds, performing every single counter surveillance technique I've seen and learned and a few I didn't know exist- and I knew that there was no way we'd win this.

In fact, the only reason Grant and I managed to follow them was by the friend. She stood out so much in comparison to her companion that it was a little easier, but not by much. They were still trained operatives.

The sun sank lower in the sky, and it grew a little harder to keep an eye on our subjects. I saw them share a worried glance, and then they reached a conclusion.

"Good luck," Grant muttered, fully intent and fully concentrating on his subject, as we saw them slip into another crowd- except we lost sight of them once we realized that these girls were almost exactly identical from the waists up. I kept my eyes on their shoes and pants, trying to find a difference, but there were too many bodies in the way.

I saw way too many girls in the same outfit, but the crowd parted once. It was enough for me to catch a glimpse of my subject... Staring right at us again.

Then they turned and ran with the crowd. A train pulled into the station thirty feet in front of them, and all the girls rushed to board it. Grant surged forward to run after them, but I pulled him back before he could get five feet forward.

"What would you do in this situation?" I asked Grant. He looked at me, confused. I guestered to our subjects, now standing by an escalator, watching the train pull away, staring into the second to last train car. Grant grinned at me.

"Smart. It's a good thing I'm with you."

"Not for long," I said, watching the two girls split up.

* * *

Without her friend to go by, my subject was nearly impossible to follow. She was going with the crowd so naturally, so effortlessly, that I even lost her twice.

The first time, I saw found her again, looking at a candy store. She looked at her watch, then at some M&M's, then kept walking. I walked in and quickly bought a bag, then put it in my pocket and resumed my covert chase.

The second time, I found her standing by an elevator, impatiently looking down at her watch, though I suspected it was more a habit then actually needing the time. I looked down at my own watch, and saw that it was almost five. I looked back up as I started walking towards her.

Yeah, I also wondered what I was doing, and whether or not I was insane, but I wanted to know more about this... Interesting and experienced operative.

She was interesting, that's all. Really. Just plainly interesting.

I came to stand next to her. "Hey," I said, almost cursing my stupidity as a look of recognition passed her eyes briefly. In that moment, I could see something come to mind to her, as if she was realizing something, and then she just shrugged.

She just shrugged.

"Hi."

She just _shrugged me off!_ Nobody shrugs me off- nobody!

She pushed the button again, as if that would make the elevator come faster. I could see in her eyes that she was hoping I wouldn't get on with her, and that the elevator would just _get here_ already, but neither happened.

We both stepped in, and the door closed behind us. There was an loud silence as the long elevator ride started.

"So," I said, to break the ice, "Do you... Come here a lot?"

_Really, Zach? That's all you could think of?_

The girl shook her head. "I'm on a school field trip. I got lost. I'm trying to find my group again."

I smiled inwardly. _Every lie is built around a truth._

Externally, I frowned at her. "Shouldn't you guys have a meeting place to go to if anyone gets separated form the group?"

_And so is every cover. _How good is hers? An operative is only as good as their ability to keep a character, after all.

"We did. They weren't there, so I'm wandering around, hoping I'll run into them. I'm pretty sure I know where they are, though."

I nodded. "Okay. Well, good luck."

About five seconds into the silence, her stomach growled. She blushed.

"Here," I said, pulling out the M&M's from earlier from my pocket. I held them out in my palm, and she quickly accepted them. The meekness on her face in the situation reminded me of taming a scared animal, or feeding a shy goat at the petting zoo. _Maybe that relates more to her than I thought. _

"Thanks," she said, putting a few into her mouth, then handing me back the bag. I shook my head.

"Keep it."

She looked gratefully at me then pocketed her treasure. The silence grew as the elevator went on. I saw her look into the window as she studied me subtly, and I did the same to her. As the dirt and grass flew by and we reached above ground (how the heck did we end up in an underground train station again?) I knew that we both knew what the other was, and that the other knew what we were. I knew that this girl was most definitely an experienced operative. I also knew that she didn't know exactly what I was, but she knew that I meant business. That I was here for a mission, a challenge.

And that I had been tailing her this entire time.*

And then she shrugged at me again. _She knows that I'm an operative and that I've been tailing her this entire time, and she just shrugs at me!_

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. The girl stepped out and looked at me.

"Well, thanks for the candy. Bye."

Then she walked away.

I came to my senses and stepped out of the elevator in time, just as it closed after me. And then I started following her, more carefully than ever.

* * *

It seemed as if she had stopped trying to lose her tail. Like she had given up... Or just given in.

I grinned. This was just too easy. I then thought back to the elevator. She knew who I was, but she was letting me follow her. Why?

I didn't have any time to wonder about it any longer, because the girl was opening the door to a building, and I knew that if I lost sight of her _this time_, I'd have trouble finding her again.

So I just trailed behind her, hiding in the five o'clock shadows, and entered the building after her.

I watched her walk up the stairs and in to a room. I followed behind, not making a sound. The room was deserted, just the two of us.

Well, the three of us.

Because just then Joseph Solomon stepped out from behind Dorothy's Ruby Slippers.

I recognized him from the times he visited my parents, from when I was little- from when he was a common Friday night dinner guest. From when my parents and him were best friends.

From when my dad was here.

That was a long time ago.

My thoughts were interrupted by Joe's voice. "You're four seconds late, Ms. Morgan."

"But I'm alone," the girl said. I knew that by the tone of her voice and the way she said it that she knew she wasn't, that she knew I was only yards away from her. Both Solomon and I heard it, but he didn't question it.

(I, obviously, didn't either, because my subject 'didn't know' I was here.)

"No," Joe said, shaking his head, "you're not."

I took that as my que to step in.

"Hey, Gallagher Girl."

My subject whirled around to face me. "You?"

Her responses- they barely concealed the fact that she wasn't really surprised. That she knew all along what was going on, but she was going with it. Her responses showed that there were no surprises, or secret advantages, or hidden aces to use. As I looked into her eyes, I still saw the determination that was captured in the picture, but in person, I was able to see...

Boredom? Betrayal? Gratefulness? Regret?

These emotions were all jumbled up on her eyes and on her face, but they were definitely there.

And that's when I made I my personal mission to get to know her. To know what caused her her pains and joys, and why she had so many emotions running high at the same time.

And maybe to get her to know me.

Instead of saying anything about these thoughts, though, I only smirked.

_That's what you get for shrugging your shoulders at me!_

Solomon looked at me. "Well done, Zach," he said, praising me. He then turned to my subject, but she played her hidden ace.

She tilted her head slightly, looking at me. "Hey, Blackthorne Boy."

I gaped at her. I thought that the Gallagher Girls weren't supposed to know about us! Yeah, she was good, and she recognized me as the enemy operative, but... Still!

Apparently, Joe was thinking something along those lines, because he stared at the girl, surprised, then grinned.

"Good job, Ms. Morgan." My subject looked slightly pleased with herself, but then Joe burst her bubble. "But not good enough."

Before she could react, he looked at me nodded. I recognized that that was the signal to go back to the rest of the boys, where they were waiting for a van to pick them up to go to the helicopter, but I didn't leave until I saw Joe and the girl disappear through the doorway.

I made myself a promise, right then and there, that I would see her again.

And the when I did, I would at least ask her for her name.

* * *

**_*Remember Cam's dad's system: Once is nothing, twice is a coincidence, three times is a tail? Well, Solomon taught her the exact same thing, and that's how she figured out who Zach was. But she only knew that he was her tail, nothing else. And she didn't shrug off the possibility, like she tried to make it look like, because her time with her mom must have taught her at least that anyone could be the enemy. _**

**So, how did you guys like the chapter? Was it good enough? Remember, I'm always open to constructive criticism, and I'd love to hear what you guys would like to see later on in the story. How was the longer chapter?**

**A big huge gigantum mega thank you to my beta, maryclumsykatherine, for editing this chapter at such a short notice and catching every little mistake. And seriously, go check out her stories!**

**Next chapter's title: I haven't written it yet, so it doesn't have one, but I'll update this chapter with it's title when I do. **


	5. Chapter 5

I groaned as my water bottle fell off my lap (again) and hit the floor. I glared at Grant as he laughed at me.

"Why does this road have to be so bumpy?" I wondered aloud as I picked it up for the umpteenth time.

Jonas absentmindedly shrugged, lost in thought. Probably thinking about the girl he tailed.

Right. The girls.

The boys and I had ditched the helicopter awhile back, and Dr. Steve shepherded us into a van with the Gallagher Academy logo written on the side, leaving behind any pretense of secrecy, and us wondering where he got it. It was a little crowded, what with the amount of boys and our bags stuffed in this humid van, but we all managed to not complain.

For four hours.

As a reward, Dr. Steve gave us snacks and drinks. In my opinion that wasn't a proper thank you, but that was probably the best he could do.

Yeah. Four hours.

Halfway through the fifth hour, Dr. Steve pulled over to the side of the road.

"Okay, boys. We'll be there in five minutes, so prepare yourselves. When we get there, as quietly as you can, you will be lead up to your rooms by the Headmistress. Once you get unpacked- no more than ten minutes!- I will take you to where the girls will be eating. There you will make your entrance. Do not go through the doors until I say so! You understand, Johnson?" Dr. Steve asked Rick Johnson, who was whispering with Noah Jacobs while Dr. Steve was talking. Rick blushed slightly and nodded his head once.

"Excellent. This will be great, boys! And remember-"

"Not to reveal Blackthorne's history and that they train assassins. We know." We all interrupted him in unison. Dr. Steve grinned.

"This will be fun."

Five and a half minutes later, we arrived at the gates of the Gallagher Academy. And man, did they look like spoiled rich brats.

Which means that they are even better than we give them credit for.

Dr. Steve drove through the gates and parked the van in the front. As he opened his door and exited the van, the main doors to the school opened. We slowly got out, standing in a straight line as we had been taught, bags slung over our shoulders and our postures straight. Dr. Steve walked in front of us and held out his hand to the woman that had emerged from the building.

"Headmistress Goode," he greeted the woman as she shook his hand. A couple of boys looked over from her to me a few times, wondering if we were related by our last names. Jonas and Grant looked at me questioningly, and I responded with a small, happy smirk.

"Dr. Sanders," she replied in an even tone, dropping his hand. She looked at us each, her eyes lingering a second longer on me than the others. "These are your students?"

"Yes ma'am," Dr. Steve answered. He introduced us by name, guestering to each boy as he spoke.

"Great," Headmistress Goode- my mom- said. "What grades are they in?"

And so Dr. Steve proceeded to reintroduce us.

Finally, when he was done talking, Headmistress Goode motioned for us to follow her inside. We looked at Dr. Steve, and he nodded. "I'll catch up in a few minutes, boys. Go ahead."

Headmistress Goode opened the door and walked through the building, us following her. Silently, of course, just like Dr. Steve had asked. Jonas, Grant and I hung at the back of the line to exchange a few whispers of conversation.

"Is that-?" Grant started slowly. I nodded.

"Yup."

"And does that mean-?" Jonas asked. I nodded again.

"Yeah, we were right. About eveything."

The both nodded. "Awesome," Grant muttered.

A half a minute later, we reached our rooms.

"Make yourselves at home for the rest of the semester, gentlemen. Your chaperone will be back in ten or so minutes. And welcome to the Gallagher Academy." Headmistress Goode smiled at us. On her way out, her hand brushed against mine briefly, an unnoticed motion. I felt something- a slip of paper- in my palm, and I smiled at my mom. Oh, you're good.

As soon as the three of us claimed our room, I pulled out the note and looked at it.

_Zach,  
I'll explain a couple of things. Meet me tonight in my office at six.  
-mom_

Grant and Jonas each took turns reading the note. They looked at me. After a minute I said, "well, obviously, she expects me to know where her office is." I turned around and started unpacking.

My two roommates shared a look. "Dude, I think that's code for 'you have until six to explore this school,'" Jonas said. Grant nodded in agreement.

I smirked at them. "Yeah, I kinda figured that out."

Grant stood up from his position on the bed and started unpacking his things. Jonas rolled his eyes at me and I grinned at him. Soon, all three of us were unpacked and ready to go. Just in time, too, because Dr. Steve opened the door and threw a bag on each of our beds.

"Your clothes. Get changed, put everything else away, and wait."

Once we had gotten dressed and put away our clothes, Dr. Steve said from the hallway, "Single file line, boys! Single file line!"

We headed towards the door and stepped out to the hallway. Dr. Steve motioned for us to join the back of the line.

"Excellent," he said as everyone fell silent. "Let's go now."

We walked down the hallways in a single file, feeling like Kindergarteners, and in a minute we reached two big double oak wood doors.

Dr. Steve put a finger to his lips and then peered through the cracks. After two and a half seconds, he pulled away and stood up straight.

"Be ready, boys." He whispered to us. And then he opened the doors and led us through.

As I entered the room, I could see it was massive, with huge support beams running up and down the sides. There were so many tables- occupied by girls.

Every single head turned to us as we marched through the room. It was pin-drop silent in there.

As we stopped in the middle of the room, the whispers started. Man, can girls gossip.

All of the boys were casually scanning the room, taking note of girls their age and the teachers, so I followed their example and my eyes found her immediately.

Her being 'Miss Morgan,' the girl I tailed in D.C.

As our eyes met, we held a conversation for a few seconds. So, basically, me smirking at her as if to say 'We meet again,' and her glaring at me as if to say 'Stop smirking.' I kept smirking.

Suddenly Headmistress Goode stood up and waited until the girls grew silent.

"Girls, meet the Blackthorne boys. They will be studying with their respective grades for the rest of this semester. They'll room in the East Wing, and each of them will start classes tomorrow, on Monday." The whispers rose to normal talking, and Headmistress Goode sat back down. Dr. Steve gestered for us to take a seat anywhere. Somebody in the front saw an empty table, and we sat down there.

From my seat, I had a perfect view of my girl. She was talking to three other girls, all of them rolling their eyes at her as she talked animatedly with her hands.

She looked very different from the photo now. Here, she didn't seem lost- she seemed found. Here, the determination was still there, but there was something else- and I reminded myself to find out just what that was.

I met her eyes again, but this time I didn't smirk. This time I gave a small, trick-of-the-light wave, and turned to answer to Grant.

"Who is that?" He asked me, subtly looking at my girl.

"She's who I tailed in D.C., remember?" I said. "The one you tailed is sitting right next to her."

Grant grinned. "I remember now. Hey, they were both pretty good- maybe learning here won't be as bad."

I nodded, thinking of my small mission: get to know my girl. Find out why she has so many emotions tumbling around inside of her, why she's so determined, and why she looks as if she's been through anything and everything.

And I thought, 'Yeah. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.'

* * *

**Hey! How'd you guys like the chapter? next one will be a little longer :)**

**I know I promised Autumn Herondale a change, and don't worry- it's coming soon :)**

**Seriously, guys, marykatherineclumsy is the boss. You don't know how awesome she is. How does she do it? **

**Thank you so much for all of your reviews, favorites, and follows. They mean to lot to me!**


	6. Important AN (not giving up on story!)

**Hey, guys! I'm back! **

**Yeah... So, long story short, no time to write, spending theme with relatives, blah blah blah, but now... Now it's all different. **

**Because I can actually write. **

**(This is about the time the dramatic background music starts playing.)**

**and yeah. So, this is my plan: MAJOR makeover for this story. New cover, new title, fixed plot, same baseline, slightly tweaked summary. But it'll be the same theme, same idea, same general story. Not a HUGE difference. At all. **

**I'm already halfway through the next chapter, I've slightly tweaked (my version of re-writing) the past chapters, pickled out a title for chapter five, and gotten down to business. I'm serious about this, now. For real :)**

**So I guess that this is my version of an apology, because I have no good excuse for leaving for this long, and this is my version of making amends with you guys. When I re-post this, I'll put up a chapter here for three days before taking it down :) **

**-Posideon out. **


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